


Hold these Shattered Pieces of My Heart

by WildWolf25



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Implied Relationships, Literal Sleeping Together, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, it's not actually about a relationship, sort of, the rating is just for some nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWolf25/pseuds/WildWolf25
Summary: Those memories seemed so far away; cozy nights holed up in a blanket fort in the living room, lit up only by the glow of the television screen, were a stark contrast from the hell he had been experiencing for the past two years.He wished he erase these past couple of years and go back to the days before the Kerberos mission, back when his biggest problem was trying to beat Katie at rock-paper-scissors to choose which Alien movie to watch first.  He wished he could go back to summer barbecues and robotics team competitions and stargazing and looking for UFOs on the hill behind the house.  Back when the horrors he witnessed could just be turned off with the press of a button and exchanged for a different movie.  Back when he could sleep through the night without waking up in a cold sweat with a racing heart and fear running through his veins; back before a time where waking up didn’t mean the nightmare was over, only that the dream version had ended and he was stuck in one he could never wake up from.(Matt has some trouble sleeping after he's rescued, but Shiro's got his back.  Or, front, in this case)





	Hold these Shattered Pieces of My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> My writing style? A pinch of hurt, a sprinkle of angst, and... a dump truck's worth of fluff and comfort poured on top, preferably with a side of cuddles.
> 
> Much as I love Shatt (dumb name and all), a relationship is only implied in this one. You can read it any which way you like. I believe that if you spent an indeterminate length of time as one of the very few other humans in space (not to mention in a high stress environment), you might end up getting pretty close, hence why they do what they do here.

Matt woke up drenched in cold sweat with his heart racing, but he didn’t move.  He lay perfectly still as he opened his eyes, a brief moment of panic gripping him at the unfamiliar surroundings that was quickly assuaged by the realization that he was in his sister’s room and that he was safe.  He could feel the nightmare he had been having slip its cold fingers around his throat as it threatened to plunge him back into the darkness, but he pushed it away and focused on the dimly-glowing blue light splashed across the ceiling from the lamp next to the door while he counted backwards from one hundred by sevens.  By the time he had finished, his racing heart had calmed down and he found he was able to unclench his stiff fingers from the tight fists they were balled into at his sides.  He took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it.  Other than opening his eyes, the slow rise and fall of his chest was the first he had moved since waking up.

_ It’s alright now,  _ he told himself.   _ You’re not in the prison anymore.  You’re not in the gladiator arena.  You’re in a castle.  The castle of… um…  _ Without turning his head, Matt’s eyes drifted over to the door, searching for clues.  The lamp set into the wall next to the door was a solid sheet of metal with the image of a lion’s face cut into it to let the blue light from the small crystal through.   _ Lions,  _ he reminded himself.   _ The castle of lions. _  As he woke up more, details began to come back to him, and he grabbed onto them while he worked on wiggling his stiff fingers.   _ You’re in the castle of lions, a princess’s castle.  Her name is… Allura.  Yes, princess Allura of Altea.  They’re aliens, but they’re good aliens.  They’re fighting Zarkon.   _ **_Katie_ ** _ is fighting Zarkon.  She and her friends rescued you.  They got you out of the Galra prison, and got Dad out of the work camp.  They saved you.  You’re safe here. _

He couldn’t really blame himself for the terror he still felt at the thought of moving even an inch.  Only a few hours earlier, he had been a prisoner of the Galra empire, forced to fight in the gladiator ring for over two years.  He could still remember clearly when he had first been captured, back when the Galra had taken them from Kerberos during their expedition.  They had been stripped of their space suits and made to wear the thin purple prison garb that offered little protection from the cold ship, they had been beaten, his father had been separated from Matt and Shiro, and they had been thrown into a freezing, crowded cell.  Fear had managed to keep him awake for days, until he finally succumbed to the exhaustion and had fallen into an uneasy sleep.  He had woken up in the middle of the night -- at least, he  _ thought  _ it was night, but it was always dark in the cells -- screaming and drenched with cold sweat.  Shiro had woken up when he started screaming, and tried to calm him down while the other prisoners shot them dirty looks and hissed at them to shut up, that they were going to get everyone in trouble.  Matt couldn’t stop panicking, though, and the guard had come by before he could calm down.  The guard had then dragged him away and beat him until he passed out.  He woke up to Shiro cleaning a gash on his face as best he could with water from his own drinking bowl.  Matt had nearly started screaming again in hysteria before Shiro quickly pressed a hand over his mouth, a pained apology in his eyes.

_ “Don’t scream, don’t move, Matt,”  _ Shiro had whispered.   _ “The others explained.  The guards are always watching, always looking for any excuse to hurt the prisoners for fun.”   _

Since then, both he and Shiro had been forced to learn the hard way how to keep silent and still whenever either of them woke up from a nightmare.  It was, apparently, a skill that could neither be learned nor unlearned overnight.  It had taken a long time for Matt to be able to wake up without making a sound.  For some reason, Shiro had an easier time with it, although he too had struggled in the beginning.  

Matt went through so many nights of being beaten for sport, of being snatched from his sleep and dragged off to the gladiator ring, of waking up from nightmares only to find himself still trapped in one that wouldn’t end, that he became unable to sleep at all.  Shiro, too, found himself dreading the times when the guards would drag Matt away -- picking him because he was small and not as good of a fighter -- and being helpless to do anything to stop them.  Eventually, they came to a compromise, and although neither remembered how it got started, it quickly became part of their routine.  Matt couldn’t sleep because he felt unsafe, and Shiro couldn’t sleep because he was terrified of Matt being taken away and never coming back, so Shiro slept lying on top of Matt.  The weight of his friend on him made Matt feel a little safer, Shiro felt he could protect Matt a little better, and the warmth and closeness reassured both of them when they woke up in a cold sweat with icy darkness pressing in on them and terror still digging claws into their minds.  The day Shiro had been taken away by the druids had been the worst day of Matt’s life -- even worse than being captured or fighting in the arena -- because not only did he have no idea what would happen to his friend, but also because he found himself completely alone.  There was no warm weight on his chest to ground him in reality when he woke up from a nightmare, no fingers running through his hair to soothe him back to sleep, no one to whisper  _ “shhh, I’ve got you, be still…” _

Matt opened his eyes again, unsure when he had closed them.  The dim blue lamp was still glowing by the door, throwing light across the ceiling.  

_ You can move now,  _ he told himself.  Could he?   _ You’re not in danger.  You’re  _ **_not_ ** _ in danger.  Just turn your head, just start with that…   _ Very slowly and carefully, Matt turned his head to the side and was greeted by the sight of his sister sleeping a short distance away, her face peaceful.  Seeing her gave him the courage to turn the rest of his body, shifting onto his side.

Truthfully, he had given up any hope of ever getting out of that wretched place and had just been waiting to die when the door to his cell had been blasted open.  The person in the blue armor had shouted something about escaping, and he had been helped to his feet by another prisoner before being ushered out of the cell.  It was then that he had caught sight of the shortest paladin, the one in the green armor, and he had thought he finally might have actually gone crazy when they turned around and he found himself looking at his sister, whom he had resigned to never see again.  She had grabbed him tightly and the two of them had fallen to their knees in the middle of the prison corridor, but then the red one had said something about needing to get back to the castle, and Matt had found himself being lifted and suddenly he was on his sister’s back, her running and carrying him as if he weighed next to nothing.  After two years as a prisoner being fed only the bare minimum to keep him alive, he probably did.

His memory was a little jumbled after that, but he remembered finally coming to a halt in a place that was much more open and bright than the Galra prison.  His sister let him off her back only to instantly wrap him in a hug again, tears streaming down her face.  The two of them stood there, embracing each other while confused, chattering aliens milled about around them, until Matt felt like his legs were on the verge of giving out.  He heard a familiar voice behind him, calmly directing the aliens to the infirmary and distributing blankets, and he had just managed to catch a glimpse of Shiro before the doors opened and the big paladin in the yellow armor had entered carrying the emaciated, frail-looking form of Samuel Holt in his arms, leading a group of aliens rescued from the work camp that was on the same planet.  Everyone with severe injuries was placed in a healing pod, including their father, and Katie and Matt held each other while standing in front of his pod until all the other aliens had cleared out of the room.  Katie had finally insisted on getting him to eat something that had been green and gooey, but had still been the best meal Matt had eaten since leaving Earth.  After finishing the second helping she had pushed on him, the two of them had met up with Shiro, who gave Matt a long, relieved hug.  The three of them had sat down and talked for hours, filling in the gaps in each other’s stories.

Eventually, Shiro had been called away by the princess, and Katie had asked Matt if he wanted to get some rest.  Matt had quietly admitted that he didn’t think he could sleep alone, which was how he had found himself on a mattress Katie had dragged into her room from one of the guest quarters.  She had pushed her own mattress onto the floor as well and they set the two in an L shape, putting their heads together to quietly reminisce on countless all-night movie marathon sleepovers they had done back home growing up, before finally falling asleep.  Those memories seemed so far away; cozy nights holed up in a blanket fort in the living room, lit up only by the glow of the television screen, were a stark contrast from the hell he had been experiencing for the past two years.  

He wished he erase these past couple of years and go back to the days before the Kerberos mission, back when his biggest problem was trying to beat Katie at rock-paper-scissors to choose which Alien movie to watch first.  He wished he could go back to summer barbecues and robotics team competitions and stargazing and looking for UFOs on the hill behind the house.  Back when the horrors he witnessed could just be turned off with the press of a button and exchanged for a different movie.  Back when he could sleep through the night without waking up in a cold sweat with a racing heart and fear running through his veins; back before a time where waking up didn’t mean the nightmare was over, only that the dream version had ended and he was stuck in one he could never wake up from.    

Matt closed his eyes again, trying to get back to sleep, but it was no use; the images from his nightmares -- from his  _ memories _ , some of which were worse than what his mind could have conjured up in nightmares alone -- were burned into the insides of his eyelids.  Splitting pain, bruises blooming across every inch of his body, blood staining his hands and staining the very air with its thick iron scent, fear spiking through him sharper than any knife blade, a clawed hand grabbing him around the calf in the arena, his opponent leering at him as he crushed the bones in his left leg as easily as one might crumple scrap paper, screaming himself hoarse and then some more, the high and cold laughter of the druids, the icy fire of their tools against his skin, and the phantom pain that numbed his leg just above the knee where it connected to the cybernetic prosthesis...  

Matt opened his eyes once more and concentrated on counting the freckles dotting Katie’s cheeks and nose to calm himself down again.  He was tired, he was so very tired, and although he knew he was safe, he didn’t  _ feel  _ safe.  He curled up into a fetal position, tucking his chin to his chest and wrapping his arms around his own thin waist.  The movement dislodged his pillow, which slid off the mattress and bumped against Katie’s nose, and she blinked her eyes open with a yawn.  

“Hey, you okay?”  She asked, laying a hand on the top of his head, warm and grounding.  Matt didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t want to make her worry.  

“Yeah,” he managed to whisper the word.  She didn’t look very convinced.  

“What’s wrong?”  She asked, brushing his hair out of his face in that way that was so like their mother.  He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.  Can’t sleep.”  He sighed.  “I’ve had trouble sleeping ever since… ever since Kerberos.  Nightmares.”  

“That makes sense,” Katie nodded sagely.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Matt shook his head.

Katie hummed thoughtfully.  “Come on, Matt, I know you must have some way of getting to sleep.  Otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted more than a week or so.”

Matt released a heavy sigh.  “Before Shiro and I were separated, whenever I had a nightmare, he would… lay on top of me.”

Katie raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t look judgemental.  “Really?”  

“Yeah.”  Matt shrugged.  “I don’t know why, but there was something reassuring about it.”

“Well, whatever works, I guess.”  Katie paused, then went on, hesitant.  “Did you… want me to…?”

Matt shook his head and chuckled quietly.  “We’re close as siblings, but even that is a little much.”

“Agreed.”  Katie nodded.  She tucked a lock of hair behind Matt’s ear.  “Then… do you want to go to Shiro?”

Matt cast his eyes down.  “I’d feel… guilty.  For leaving you, and bothering him.”

“Don’t be.  I’m just happy you’re safe, and I want you to get rest so you can heal.”  Katie told him.  “And don’t worry about bothering Shiro.  There’s a reason we joke about him being our ‘space dad’; plenty of us have ended up knocking on his door in the middle of the night wanting to talk through a nightmare, or homesickness, or being too worried to sleep.  He doesn’t mind.”  

“You’re sure it’s okay?”  Matt asked, still uncertain.  

“Positive.”  Katie reached across the space between their mattresses and hugged him for a few moments, then pulled back and gave him a warm smile.  “Do you remember where Shiro’s room is?  Or do you want me to show you?”

“I think I can find it.”  Matt sat up, his blankets pooling around his waist.  “It’s at the end of the hall, right?”  

“Yep.  Purple lion plaque on the door.”  Katie reminded him.  “Get some rest, Mattie.”  

“Thanks,” Matt smiled, the upward curve feeling strange and unfamiliar to him now.  “You too.”

He placed his hand on the sensor to close the door to the green paladin’s room behind him, then looked up and down the empty hallway.  He hadn’t been in this castle-ship for very long yet, so he was still a little disoriented.  He shivered in the cool night air and wrapped his arms around himself as he headed down the corridor.  Allura and Coran had opened their closets to clothe the rescued prisoners, who had been eager to get out of the Galra prison garb, so Matt was dressed in what looked like a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt that Coran had given him.  They were nice, and the fabric was much softer against his skin than what he had been wearing before, but they did little against the chilly air.  He had no shoes, but he didn’t mind; the floor tiles were cold under his right human foot, but the feeling helped ground him and let him know that this was real, that he was alive and able to walk around.  Meanwhile, the unfeeling metal left foot tapped against the floor as he made his way down the corridor, the quiet sound echoing off the walls.  

As he walked, his eyes searched for Shiro’s room.  No, no, this wasn’t right… He could see the faintly-glowing lion’s face plaques on the doors, and that one at the end of the hall was yellow, followed by blue.  He turned around and headed in the other direction, passing Katie’s room with its green lion plaque, then the red one, before finding the purple one at the beginning of the hallway.  From what little he had seen of Voltron, he thought he remembered the Lions being in that order from the head down of the robot.  He would have to remember that in the future.

Matt hesitated with his hand raised, unable to make himself knock on the door in front of him.  He hated that he had been reduced to this; a jumpy ghost of the man he used to be, afraid of his own memories.  He hated that he felt like a child running to their parents’ room in the middle of the night because of a scary dream.  He hated that he was still a little nervous around Shiro, even after realizing that he had only been trying to protect him, and even after realizing that Matt wouldn’t be alive right now if Shiro hadn’t injured him.  He may have only been pretending, but the pain had been real and he had been left with a very real scar on the back of his left thigh.  Even before that, he had seen what Shiro was capable of ever since he had watched his first fight; Shiro had tried to simply incapacitate the smaller alien, but it had been out for his blood and he had had no choice but to snap the creature’s neck the next chance he got, before he could get too tired from the drawn-out battle.  He had hated watching Shiro kill in the arena.  The sickness churning in his gut had been accompanied by an intense relief that Shiro would live another day.  When he thought about it, that feeling only made him feel sicker… he shouldn’t be happy that these creatures were  _ dying _ .  His only consolation was that Shiro had admitted he felt the same way when he watched Matt fight.  It wasn’t ideal, not by any means, but at least they both knew that what they felt was natural.

Matt took a deep breath and lightly tapped his knuckles on the door.  He grimaced; that sound wouldn’t be enough to wake Shiro if he was sleeping, but Matt didn’t want to be any louder for fear of waking up any of the others.  He was just steeling himself to knock a second time when the door slid open, the sudden movement making him jump.  Shiro blinked at him in surprise, then smiled warmly.  

“How… how did you even hear that?”  Matt asked, amazed.  

“I was awake.”  Shiro admitted.  “Pidge called me on the inter-castle communication system.  Said something about you needing something we used to do, and that if I hurt you she’ll punch me in the face.”  He stepped back and held the door open for Matt, who hesitantly entered the room.  Shiro’s room looked exactly like Katie’s -- he was willing to bet all the paladins’ rooms were the same -- but his lights were turned on a bit brighter.  Shiro closed the door behind him and put his hands on his hips, his stance casual.  “What’s up?”

Matt averted his eyes and rubbed his arm, feeling self-conscious.  “I had a nightmare.”  He hated having to admit something that sounded so childish.  The only way he could get the words out was the thought that Shiro was the only one who would really know what he meant.  

Sure enough, Shiro’s smile slipped.  “Ah.”

Matt nodded.  “Yeah.”  

Shiro sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the space next to him.  Matt took a seat beside him, mere inches between them.  He wanted to be closer, but he didn’t know if Shiro would be okay with that.  It had been a very long year since they had been separated, and he didn’t know what Shiro had been through in their time apart, other than that the druids had given him a cybernetic limb as well.  He himself could remember the pain of that operation well -- he doubted he would ever be able to forget it -- and the feeling of being strapped down to the table while cruel hands poked and prodded at him before sawing through his ruined leg still haunted his nightmares.  Just the memory of it was enough to make him want to curl up next to Shiro, or underneath him, and hide somewhere they couldn’t get him.  But he didn’t know if Shiro shared the same sentiment.  He might have processed it differently; Matt knew some of the aliens who had been experimented on by the druids couldn’t stand to be touched afterwards.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”  Shiro asked.  

Matt shook his head, paused, then shrugged.  “Just… the usual stuff.  Remembering things I’d rather forget.”

Shiro nodded, understanding.  “What can I do to help?”  He asked.

“Can we… sleep, you know, the way we used to?”  Matt asked.  Shiro’s expression softened and he smiled reassuringly.  

“Of course.”  He slipped an arm around Matt’s shoulders and squeezed gently.  “Make yourself comfortable.  I’ll get the lights.”  He stood up and crossed the room while Matt scooted back and pushed his feet under the blanket.  It was still warm from Shiro having been sleeping in it, and the warmth felt good against his chilly skin.  

Matt laid down on his back, head on Shiro’s pillow, while the other man dimmed the lights to a low glow and joined him back on the bed.  Shiro slid under the blanket as well, then paused and looked down at Matt.  

“Are you sure about this?”  He asked carefully.  Matt felt a flutter of panic in his chest.  Did Shiro not want this?  Had he bothered him, despite what Katie had said?

“We… we don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable with it…” He felt like he was digging his own grave, because he  _ needed  _ to feel safe, and this was the only way he could think of.  But if it was too much for Shiro, he wouldn’t push it.

“It’s not that,” Shiro said quickly.  “It’s just… I’m a bit… bigger, than I was before.”

Matt looked up at him, considering it.  He had noticed that Shiro looked broader, healthier, his once fairly lean muscles now bulkier and more defined, even more so than he had been from the arena.  Thanks to better meals and a proper training regiment, he probably weighed at least fifteen pounds more than he had in prison, most of it in muscle alone.  But, if Matt was being honest with himself, that only made him want to do this more.

“It’s fine,” Matt reached up and ran his fingers through the short hair of Shiro’s undercut, giving him a small smile.  

“Alright.  Just let me know if you need me to get off for a minute or two.”  With that, Shiro lowered himself to lay on top of Matt’s chest, his hips between his legs and his arms sliding behind Matt’s back.  

Matt let his eyes fall closed with a sigh, allowing Shiro’s weight to further settle on him.   The effect was immediate; he felt safe, protected on all sides, and warm.  He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time.  This was even better than Shiro protecting him in the Galra prison cell, because the logical part of him knew he was safe and far away from the Galra, but now his body felt safe as well.  

Shiro rested his chin on Matt’s sternum and smiled up at him, his left hand coming up to card his fingers through Matt’s hair.  “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.”  Matt exhaled and enjoyed the firm weight of Shiro’s body pressing down on him.  His hands came up, one of them resting between Shiro’s shoulders and the other lightly scratching through Shiro’s hair, gently prodding him to lay his lay his head on Matt’s chest.  

“I’m not too heavy?”  Shiro asked.

Matt shook his head.  “You’re not nearly as fat as you seem to think you are.”

“I never said I was  _ fat _ …” Shiro muttered.  Matt giggled at the pout on Shiro’s lips.  Shiro couldn’t help but tip his head up to look at him, grinning at the sound.  He had missed Matt’s laugh so much.  He had missed seeing the way his eyes lit up whenever he told one of his dumb science jokes or cheesy puns.  He had missed  _ Matt _ .  Their time in captivity had changed them both, Shiro knew.  It had made Shiro a little more gruff, a little more serious, and -- in his own opinion -- a little less stable; he still couldn’t stop himself from freezing up in a panic whenever something triggered a flashback, and he couldn’t forget the time he had hastily ejected Sendak’s cryotube out into space.  He knew that, other than the moments when he had a flashback, he was level-headed, patient, and a good leader, but he would never forgive himself for being so helpless to stop the flashbacks when they pounced on him.  He hadn’t spent much time around Matt since freeing him, yet, but Shiro knew he had changed as well.  Shiro had been there when the light had begun to leave his eyes when they were imprisoned.  He had been there when the only two expressions Matt seemed capable of making were intense, wide-eyed fear or a glassy, emotionless daze.  He had been there when Matt had been forced to kill someone for the first time in the arena, had rubbed his back when he had thrown up in disgust over what he had done, and had held him while he sobbed that he hadn’t wanted to do it.  He had been there when Matt had confessed that he sometimes wished he could override his body’s fight-or-flight response and just let the other gladiators kill him, and he had begged Matt not to give up, to never stop trying to stay alive, because Shiro didn’t think he was strong enough to do this on his own…  Neither of them thought they were, but both of them knew the other was, and that had been the only thing keeping them going for a long time.  

Matt smiled down at him as he continued petting Shiro’s hair.  There was life in those eyes.  There was also exhaustion, and Shiro could tell from looking at his face and from holding him like this that he was far too thin.  But he was alive, and there was life in his eyes, life that Shiro had honestly feared he might never see again.  He still had a long, long journey ahead of him, and Shiro knew that better than anyone, but the important thing was that he was finally on the road to recovery.  

Shiro laid his head down on Matt’s chest, closing his eyes in contentment.  Matt was quiet for a long while, his fingers growing slow and thoughtful.  

“Do you still have nightmares?”  He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shiro opened his eyes and sighed.  “Yes.  Not every night, anymore.  But I do.”

Matt paused to scratch lightly at the buzzed hairs of his undercut.  “Do you think we’ll ever stop having them?”  

Shiro wrapped his arms around Matt a little tighter.  “I hope so.  But… I don’t think we’ll ever forget what happened.”  

Matt said nothing for several long moments.  When he next spoke up, his voice was thick and choked with emotion.  “I want to.”

Shiro hugged him.  “I know.”  There was still a lot of gaps in Shiro’s memory, a lot locked away by amnesia, but Matt had already admitted he didn’t have that same amnesia.  He had said that he remembered everything, but when Shiro and Pidge had asked him about it, he had just shaken his head and said he didn’t want to think about it.  

Shiro looked up and found that Matt had squeezed his eyes shut, his face closed up like a shutter over a window.  Shiro reached up and cupped his cheek.  “Matt?”

Matt opened his eyes to look at him, and Shiro saw that they were shining with barely held back tears.  

He rubbed a thumb over Matt’s cheek.  “You can cry.  You’re safe here.”  

Matt stared at him for half a second, then a choked-off hiccoughing sound made its way out of his throat and the tears spilled over.  He took his hands off of Shiro, one covering his eyes and the other pressed over his mouth to muffle the sound.  Shiro scooted up and gently pried Matt’s hands away from his face, murmuring comforting words to him.  “It’s okay, Matt, you’re safe now.  Go ahead and let it out.  I’ve got you.”

Matt threw his arms around Shiro and pressed his face into the crook of his shoulder, pulling him closer with all the strength he had in him.  He felt like his heart, his entire being, his very soul had been shattered like glass under the force of a relentless hail storm.  He needed Shiro to hold the fractured pieces of himself together, to keep them from breaking apart completely.  He knew Shiro would never let that happen, though; he had held him before, and he would do it again.  

Shiro ran his fingers through Matt’s hair and kept whispering words of encouragement and reassurance in his ear.  The only thing Shiro refused to tell him was “shhh…”, as he had before.  Matt had been shushed far too many times.  

Matt sobbed, loud and ugly-sounding, and Shiro nearly cried with him because he had never heard Matt cry without also feeling the intense fear that one of the guards would take him away for the noise.  But Matt was safe here, they were all safe here, and Shiro kept reminding him of this.  Eventually, the sounds coming from Matt got to be too thin and raspy for Shiro’s liking and he rolled them both onto their sides so Matt could get some air, despite his protests.  He made up for it by wrapping his body around him as much as he could, curling a leg over Matt’s hip and rubbing his back while Matt cried into his shirt.  

He managed to exhaust his supply of tears pretty quickly, leaving his shoulders shuddering with dry sobs.  Shiro wasn’t surprised about that, honestly.  Even after getting a meal into his system, Matt was still severely malnourished and dehydrated.  When he finally managed to calm down, Shiro waited a few minutes to see if he was really done.  He patted Matt’s back, feeling him jump a little from being startled as he was dozing off.  

“I’d like to get you some water,” Shiro told him.  “Is that okay?”  

“Don’t leave me,” Matt curled his fingers into Shiro’s shirt.  

“I won’t leave you.”  Shiro shook his head.  “I’ll be right back, I promise.  I just want to make sure you don’t get sick.”  He smoothed a hand over Matt’s hair, offering him a comforting smile.  “Do you trust me?”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat, and Shiro could have kicked himself.  The last time he had uttered those words to Matt had been just moments before he had pushed Matt to the ground, sliced a sword across his leg, and shouted that he wanted blood.  His heart hammered nervously against his ribcage while Matt’s gaze roamed over his face, as though he was searching for something.  He must have seen whatever it was he was looking for, because he nodded once.  “Yes, I trust you.”  

Relief washed through Shiro and he leaned down to press his lips to Matt’s temple.  “I’ll be right back.  I promise.”  He slid out of bed and left the room, making sure the door closed behind him.  

He jogged down the deserted corridor, bare feet making soft slapping noises against the tiled floor.  Inside the kitchen, he opened the cryo-fridge and grabbed one of the larger water pouches.  He wasn’t sure exactly what was in them, but based on the taste and what he remembered of Coran’s explanation of the vitamins, minerals, and ion replacing properties, he was guessing it worked a bit like Gatorade or Pocari Sweat.  He absently wondered if just plain old water would be better for treating dehydration, but natural water was a bit difficult to come by in space, so synthetically-created water would have to do.  

He jogged back to his room and pressed his palm to the touch-pad to open the door.  Inside, he found Matt curled up on his bed, already dozing off.  Shiro sat on the edge of the bed and touched his shoulder, shaking him gently.  He didn’t want to wake him up when he was so clearly exhausted, but he needed to get some water into him before he could let him sleep.  “Hey, Mattie.  Wake up.”

Matt blinked his eyes open, silent and motionless as ever when he woke up.  His eyes scanned his surroundings and Shiro took it as a good sign when Matt groaned and threw his arm over his eyes; he never would have done that in captivity.  “Mmm, ‘kashi, ‘m tired…”

“I know, I know,” Shiro chuckled.  “But you’re also dehydrated, and you’re going to wake up with a massive headache if you don’t drink something.  Come on, can you sit up for me?”  He gently prodded Matt into an upright position and pressed the water pouch into his hands.  Matt’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and Shiro was willing to bet he hadn’t seen that much water in one place since he had left Earth.  “Try to drink as much as you can, but don’t worry about finishing it all.”  He told him.  “And don’t drink too fast.”  He put a hand between Matt’s shoulder blades as the shorter man started sucking at the straw eagerly.  “I don’t want you to throw up everything we just got in you.”

Matt pulled away from the straw to give him a withering look.  “I’m not five years old, Takashi.”  

“I know,” Shiro said.  “But let me take care of you.  I’m just glad I get the chance to do so.”  He grinned and ruffled Matt’s hair, dodging the hand that Matt swatted at him.  “Don’t worry, I know you’re still a big, strong, man.”  

Matt sucked on the straw again, looking moody.  “...‘m not strong.”  

“Yes you are.”  Shiro told him.  “I’ve seen you.  You’re strong.”  

“I don’t want to be.”  Matt muttered.  Shiro knew what he meant.  He was remembering all the times in the arena, fighting for his life against opponents that were either twice his size or half his size, the latter when the Galra felt like watching him struggle with the moral decision of having to kill.  He was a scientist, not a soldier.  Matt hated fighting, and he hated being forced to kill.  But it had been kill or be killed, and if neither opponent tried to do it, the Galra would just kill them both.  

Shiro tapped the left side of Matt’s chest.  “Your heart is strong,” he brushed his hair away from his forehead.  “Your mind is strong,” he drew him in for a hug.  “And your body is stronger than you think.  Those are strengths that don’t have anything to do with fighting.  You  _ survived _ , Matt, and that’s a victory for you over the whole Galra Empire.  You should be proud of that.”

Matt thought about it, then let out a heavy sigh.  “I guess.  Mostly I just feel tired.”  His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell closed, exhaustion etched in the lines of his face.

Shiro eyed the clear panel of the water pouch.  He had finished about half of it, which Shiro thought was good enough for now.  “Let’s get some sleep.  I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”  He said.  “Do you think you’ve had enough water?”

Matt looked down at the pouch and shrugged.  “Probably.  I feel pretty hydrated.”  

“How about one more sip?”  Shiro held the pouch up to Matt’s lips.  Matt rolled his eyes and took one more draught.  As he pulled away again, Shiro gave the pouch a little squeeze and shot a spurt of water right at his face.  

Matt jumped in surprise and stared at him for a moment before he burst into laughter.  “Oh my god, Takashi!”  He laughed so hard that he snorted a couple of times.  “I guess space princess hasn’t whipped you into shape yet, huh?”

“Oh, she has.”  Shiro assured him.  “Maybe I was just trying to get you to laugh.  Plus, now your eyes won’t hurt so much tomorrow.”  He brushed his thumbs over the skin around his eyes, taking a moment to rub the moisture into the red skin before wiping away the excess.  

“Glad to see you’re still the biggest dork in the galaxy.”  Matt smiled.  

“Only fitting, since you’re the biggest nerd in the galaxy.”  Shiro replied.  He set the water pouch on the bedside table and Matt laid down on his back again, opening and closing his hands in a grabbing motion.  Shiro chuckled and laid down on top of him like he had before, hugging Matt with one arm and running the fingers of his other hand through his hair.  They were both asleep within minutes, and it was the best sleep either of them had gotten in a long, long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Me, trying to come up with a title: hmm, ‘shattered’ is a good descriptive word for how he feels in this…  
> …  
> …  
> OH MY GOSH.  
> SHATTered.


End file.
